


Us Blighters

by ushauz



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Ghouls, Hurt/Comfort, Wardenhood, mention of griffins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 05:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11890773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ushauz/pseuds/ushauz
Summary: Bethany struggles with the more monstrous aspects of Wardenhood, but then Merrill attempts to cheer her up.





	Us Blighters

“We do not take recruits out of pity,” Stroud had once said.

Bethany had not understood it at the time but she also hadn’t wanted to die. She had thought it was about the life of fighting darkspawn, something unpleasant but worthwhile, where she could use her magic to serve man in the eyes of the Maker. The constant fighting would wear on her, but she had survived a year with the Red Irons and had come out fine from that.

There had been six at her Joining. She was among the two who survived.

And she was still alive. She should be thankful, grateful for the time to talk to her dearest sister, having gotten some leave after the Qunari attack and wanting to offer comfort in person. She should be thankful right now, strolling through a clearing to get to some site because her sister always had dozens of causes she had taken up at any given moment.

And really, the air was so fresh when not in the Deep Roads, that crisp forest smell that reminded her of one of their longest childhood homes, and the sunlight felt so lovely on her skin. Her sister seemed happy, and for a moment, just for a moment, she could forget.

“Gah,” Varric said. “I don’t know what you Wardens are made of, but could you slow down for the smaller members of the party?”

Bethany gripped her staff, teeth clenching, suddenly painfully aware of how far ahead she was from the rest of the group. Aside from, of course, Anders, a few paces to her left.

Bethany felt disgusted. They had probably even been subconsciously stepping in time. Hivemind. That’s what  _ darkspawn _ did.

Or, more accurately, ghouls. Hidden, of course. Her flesh wasn’t mottled, and her hair had yet to fall out, and she didn’t actively crave human flesh. Not unless she’d gone a week without food in the Deep Roads, sudden cave-in blocking their exit, finally able to find the surface and find a nearby village to get directions and rations, watching some small plump child run by. Her hunger was—currently—focused on what could be called dubiously food, and she rarely tired or slowed these days, because that’s how _ ghouls _ worked. That’s how the Wardens worked, willingly becoming ghouls in order to fight darkspawn, knowing that someday their resistance would fail, and their disguise would melt off their flesh.

The Blight. The ultimate sign of the Maker’s disfavor, and they drank it and deceptively offered it to others.

And how foolish she was to think that the Wardens had some miracle cure, never piecing together about them able to sense darkspawn and vice versa, about being ‘immune’ to the Blight, about that fabled ‘Gray Warden stamina’. It had been obvious after the first person died, the smell, what exactly was in that goblet, and she drank it willingly, because she hadn’t wanted to die either, and here was the person responsible for the entire situation, mimicking each other’s walks, of course pairing off together.

She glared at him, hateful, and his stance stiffened.

“I’m sorry. Am I offending you with my presence again?” he asked sarcastically.

Fuck him, and fuck that he was the only one here who truly felt like a person in her mind, and fuck him for offering this to her, and fuck herself for taking it.

And she loathed that small part of her mind that wanted to just step a bit closer to him, that slight feel-good that always slid through her mind around other Wardens. Other ghouls. They were Wardens together, brothers and sisters bound in blood and Taint-

“And what if I said yes?” she snapped viciously.

His posture became stiff. “Fine,” he said. He heel-turned (and she was so familiar with that exact heel-turn, used by all the Wardens in Amaranthine) and stormed off in another direction. She didn’t look, but she didn’t need to because she could feel the exact direction he was moving away in, and it made her want to puke. At the same time, guilt tugged at her for snapping. They had gotten along so well before, and she knew she was being a bit unfair taking her issues out on him. Maybe he missed having other Wardens around, but then that thought only soured her mood further.

Bethany wrung her staff in her hands, focused on keeping her breathing steady. Goodness knows she wouldn’t want to become upset, spark off the slightest bit of magic. She heard footsteps from behind her, and by the particular style of clanking, it was probably her sister.

“Hey you okay?” Hawke asked. “That’s the quickest I’ve ever seen you drive off Anders.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Bethany said. She smiled at her sister. “Can’t we just enjoy our time together? It’s been a while since I’ve been able to visit.”

But her sister, damn her, continued to look worried. How was Bethany supposed to shove down all those ugly feelings when her sister continued to give her that look? Bethany’s smiled faded. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she repeated, because she was sworn to secrecy but mostly because it was true. She didn’t want her sister knowing the ugly truth about her, let alone the rest of the group.

Rather than continue to face her sister, she turned and walked back to where the rest of the group lingered: Varric already sitting gingerly on a log next to Isabela, Anders in his stormy mood, Merrill brushing something out of her hair, Fenris and Aveline in conversation.

“Actually you rest here. I’ll go for a walk,” Bethany said lamely.

“Do you want someone to come with you?” Hawke asked.

“No. I’ll manage.”

Bethany didn’t quite flee from the group she’d like to think. She vanished off into the forest, out of sight, and putting enough distance between then until she couldn’t feel the faint presence of Anders’ mind. She slumped down to the ground, back against a tree, head in her hands. She hated this, hated herself, hated that the only Warden around was Anders, hated everything. It settled in her chest, tugging at her lungs, and her fingers balled in her hair.

She wasn’t quite sure how long she sat there in misery before she heard footsteps approaching and cursed. Hadn’t she said she wanted to be alone?

“Hello?” Merrill called out in her song-like voice.

“Hey,” Bethany said, feeling very tired. If it was someone else… but she couldn’t snap at Merrill, not with almost everyone else snapping at Merrill. She didn’t deserve it.

Merrill came into view, hair messy as always, and sat down in more of a perch. “Got tired of the others?”

“Sure.”

“Makes sense I suppose. It’s been a while since you were here, and we can get a bit much.”

Bethany said nothing.

Merrill tilted her head. “Have you made many friends in the Wardens? It can get wearisome without some friends.”

“A number actually,” Bethany said. “Mostly decent people all things considered.”

Merrill nodded. “That’s good then. I was worried they would all be stuffy. I met a Warden once named Duncan. First human I had ever seen. He seemed very grim, and he didn’t change his armor once the entire time he was there which was a bit odd. He left with a good friend of mine, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Merrill hummed and then grew quiet. They sat there for a moment before Merrill asked, “I don’t suppose you met a Mahariel?”

Bethany paused. “The Mahariel you once asked Anders about? No. Never met him.”

“Ah. That’s sad,” Merrill said. “I want to get back into contact with him somehow, you know? But I can never seem to find him, or well not find him but find out where he is. Hopefully he’d be there long enough for me to send him some letters and him to respond. I’ve just been missing him an awfully long time.”

“So you knew the Hero of Ferelden?” Bethany asked, finding herself grow intrigued.

“Oh yes. Not very heroic to start out with. Well I thought he was, but he wasn’t by the clan’s standards, or he was heroic but too heroic, always poking around in trouble and never learning his lesson,” Merrill said fondly before frowning. “It was Mahariel and Tamlen. And me of course, of course I was there too because we were friends and- anyway, we were always together, and they kept distracting me from my studies. That’s what they called it anyway, but honestly I was already distracted from my studies by one thing or another. The Keeper would give them such a scolding, but I loved their company. They were the ones to discover the eluvian and something went… wrong.” Her gaze went distant. “We never did find Tamlen, and Mahariel became sick with the Blight.”

“I never heard how he was recruited,” Bethany said.

Merrill hugged her knees. “Honestly, I hadn’t even known he survived until we started to hear the stories. The Keeper didn’t think he would make it. She didn’t tell him of course but told me later. He had been far along the sickness. Well, for him anyway, the Blight seems to affect people at different speeds and so it’s hard to tell exactly how far- oh. Babbling. Anyway, I have no idea how he made it to that Warden camp on time what with those dark blotches having already started to show up.” She paused for a moment, tilting her head. “There are herbs, some magic, that can delay the sickness, but I’ve never heard of a cure before.”

There isn’t one, Bethany thought darkly and idly wondered why she didn’t voice this out loud.

“So how did he catch the Blight?” she asked.

Merrill blinked. “But I already told- oh no technically I didn’t. It was the eluvian. It made him sick. I think it has the same Taint that the Blight does. I’ve been working on it for some time, trying to draw the Blight out.” She paused. “Though I don’t think it would work on a person. Not this method anyway. Blood and lyrium aren’t the same thing, and I am pretty sure the Blight is in more than just the blood, and so drawing the Blight out of all of the bits that make up a person sounds awfully difficult and would probably be a bad idea. I’m certain I would rupture something. In them, not me.”

Bethany snapped her gaze to Merrill. “You brought a Blighted mirror with you?”

“That’s exactly how the Keeper sounded when she found out,” Merrill said. “I don’t mind if you don’t trust me. I’m rather used to it by this point, but I know what I’m doing. Not necessarily how to fix it, not yet, but I know how to be safe, and I’m getting closer! Especially with the arulin’holm now which the Keeper still doesn’t believe me, but the eluvian is of old elvhen make, and using tools that were likely used in the construction of the eluvian has to help.”

Bethany was speechless. “Is it even possible?”

“A Blighted eluvian? Well I am starting to think that- oh wait, no, removing the Taint, sorry.” She tilted her head. “I am pretty sure it is. I don’t see why it would be impossible. I mean, very very hard, but we will never get anywhere in life if we don’t try and take those risky ideas.” Another pause. “That was something Mahariel would say to me just before he tried something risky. He got in trouble a lot.”

“He certainly sounds like quite the character,” Bethany said.

“If you do meet him, or find out where he is, can you please ask him to write me?” Merrill said. “He probably doesn’t know where I am either. That’s probably the reason he hasn’t written me, I’m sure of it, no matter what the Keeper says.”

“I can try,” she said.

Another pause. “He’s a very good person, you know.”

Bethany laughed. “Well, yes. He’s the hero of Ferelden, savior of Thedas.”

Merrill gave her a look. “Even though he’s a Warden?” she asked in a sing-song voice.

Right. Wardens. Bethany. Ghouls walking. “I suppose.”

Merrill patted her knee. “You don’t have to feel better you know. But whatever it is about being a Warden that upsets you, it doesn’t change the fact that Wardens have done great things. We wouldn’t be here today without Wardens slaying archdemons and wrangling griffins. Though wouldn’t it have been better if we were all centuries ago and you could have had your own griffin and have named it Feathers. Or I suppose you could name your griffin whatever you want, but I think Feathers is a good name for one.”

Bethany laughed again, feeling far brighter than before she came here. Not better, but brighter. “If I somehow get my hands on my own extinct griffin, I will name it Feathers just for you.”

Merrill beamed at her. “Thanks!”

Bethany rose to her feet. “We should probably head back. Varric will bitch if he has to rest too long in nature.”

Merrill scrunched up her face. “Why does nature have so many leaves?” she said in her best Varric impression. It was terrible and hilarious all at once.

She actually smiled, and held out her hand for Merrill to pull her upright.


End file.
